Love Thy Neighbor
by starlit skyes
Summary: Draco doesn't really have a life. But when a cheeky redhead moves in next door, and barges unwelcomely into said life and tries to improve it, Draco can't help thinking whoever thought out that 'love thy neighbor' stuff didn't quite get it's implications.


**A/N: **I really feel like I _should_ be writing Do I Dare?, but I can't seem to find it in myself. *looks ashamed*

I got inspired to write this on a fun night watching the movie _One Fine Day_! It will most likely have 5-6 chapters, though I haven't really planned it out. I never do. u_u

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this!

* * *

_Instant karma's gonna get you,_

_Gonna knock you right on the head,_

_You better get yourself together,_

_Pretty soon you're gonna be dead._

_  
What in the world you thinking of,_

_Laughing in the face of love?  
_

_What on earth you tryin' to do?  
_

_It's upto you, yeah you!_

_Instant karma's gonna get you,  
_

_Gonna get you right in the face,  
_

_Better get yourself together darlin',  
_

_Join the human race._

_  
How in the world you gonna see,_

_Laughin' at fools like me?  
_

_What on earth you think you are?  
_

_A superstar? Well, right you are!_

_We all shine on,  
_

_Like the moon and the stars and the sun.  
_

_We all shine on,  
_

_On and on and on!_

**–Instant Karma, by John Lennon**

(I love this song!)

* * *

The sign outside the large, elegant house in the poshest area of Bradford said: 'Draco Malfoy, Malfoy Enterprises Inc.'

Which most people took to mean that Draco Malfoy lived in the said large, elegant house. They looked at each other, nodded, and went, 'His office must be in there, too.' They knew there was a tall, gleaming building completely devoted to 'Malfoy Enterprises Inc.' in the next street, but as far as they knew, Draco Malfoy never really went there. His shiny black Audi A4 stayed put all day, and if it ever came out, it was only in the evenings, when it would whirr out of the house, Draco Malfoy looking all groomed, and – as the ladies and some of the men had to admit – dangerously and casually sexy, and return a few hours later, most probably with a new bimbo in it each time. Most people thought he was playing the fields a little, to celebrate being single again after his divorce from Astoria Greengrass – who, as rumors put it, had been a real bitch.

The Audi stayed put after that, too, which most people took to mean that the bimbo made her own arrangements to get back home. Draco Malfoy, Malfoy Enterprises Inc. didn't really bother. If he did, then he'd go bankrupt in a month trying to drop back each girl to her place – the world's fuel supply wouldn't be able to handle it, either.

Well, that's what most people thought. And, largely, most people were right.

But the truth was, Draco Malfoy was bored. And most people did not know this.

He leant back now, in the chaise longue of his office room now, sipping his latte, staring at the life size portrait of Lucius Malfoy in front of him. For a moment, he vaguely wondered who had been better looking. His father had had broader shoulders, but Draco felt he was a bit taller.

Then he looked at the thousand-galleon statue of the naked woman who smiled demurely at him with her stoney lips. He could appreciate her a little bit more than the portrait...

He then looked at the various pieces of 'Modern Art', again costing thousands of galleons, that were all hung up on the highly polished mahogany walls – most of which, in his opinion, resembled smeared troll bogies and goblin-prints. He snorted lightly into his coffee, and lifted up his feet – finest dragonleather boots and all – onto his desk, on top of the contracts he was supposed to be signing.

He checked his watch. Four o' clock. _I am so bored,_ he thought wistfully. _So, so bored._ He tapped a finger idly on the desk.

And then a voice spoke up from outside his room. "Mr Malfoy?"

He sighed. Julia, his secretary, would most likely bring the icing to this cake. Well, he'd have to survive it, like he did every day. "Come in," he said wearily.

She stepped in smartly, smooth brown robes perfectly pressed and hugging her voluptuous curves perfectly. "Mr Malfoy," she said, smiling sweetly, whipping out a clipboard. "Do you have a minute?"

"Go on," he said curtly, nodding.

She tucked a blond strand of hair behind her ear, bit her full lip, and looked into the clipboard. "Your daughter is being picked up from the daycare centre by Frules as we speak."

"Good, good," muttered Draco absently, thinking of his daughter, Cecilia. She would liven up his day, no doubt, with a nice fresh tantrum.

"Gordon & Gordon has sent a lawyer's notice suing you for five thousand galleons on the basis of your sexually accosting their secretary." At this, Julia looked up at Draco, and gave a flirty wink.

Draco sighed. The brat had begged for it, she really had. And then when he'd remarked that he was surprised those lovely tits were silicon, the woman had gasped dramatically, gathered her tits and robes, and stomped out. Ah, well. "Send her flowers and offer money. If it's Judge Reno, he's a friend."

"Yes, sir.

"The contract for seventy-five thousand galleons and ten sickles by Theodore Nott's new company has been signed."

"Joy, oh joy."

"Your ex-girlfriend Frieda came. I told her you were busy. She was quite, er, hysterical."

"Next time she comes, throw a pie in her face."

"Guaranteed, sir. And lastly, Jeremy Frendzter requests a meeting to discuss the new factory he's been suggesting."

"Tell him I'm out of the country at the moment holidaying."

"I told him that when last month, sir."

"Well, tell him I came back, but went immediately on my next holiday." Draco checked his nails in a very characteristic gesture.

Julia smiled. "All right. Good evening, Mr Malfoy. I'll be off, then."

Draco smiled blandly. "Evening, Julia."

And then she smirked, looking up at him through her smoky lashes, and sauntered out of his office, whilst Draco stared indifferently at her firm butt against her tight robes.

_Boring._

And then she turned, just before she was out his door. "Draco."

He raised a single eyebrow. "Yes?"

"If you need company tonight," she said in a loud, husky voice, "think of me. I'll be there."

Draco smirked lazily at her. "If the thought ever does cross my mind," he said wryly, "I'll comply. Bye, Julia."

She tossed her hair, and left.

And then suddenly, he heard what sounded like a racket outside. He peered out of his window...he couldn't see anything, but what sounded like a loud, clear female voice seemed to be moving towards his house.

He got up, and walked to his living room curiously, and looked out through the peephole in his front door. He could see a flash of red hair...

"...I'm sure he's not going to mind a friendly neighbor..." he heard the voice say firmly to his arguing watchman.

And there was a smart rap on his door.

Draco straightened his robes, patted his hair – if it was a lady, he mustn't lower his standards of good looks – waited a few moments, and then opened the door.

A lady stood there, beaming up at him. She had a cascade of fiery red hair framing her small, oval face, and large brown eyes.

And she looked highly familiar...

And then he got it.

"Weasley," he said incredulously. "Binny Weasley."

"Ginny," the woman corrected, still beaming. "Ah, Malfoy, you look pretty much the same. A little less girlie, though. That's a good thing," she added firmly, as though determined to make clear that looking less girlie should never be confused with anything but being a 'good thing'. "So, are you going to let me in?"

Dazed, Draco stood aside, as the woman swept past him. And then he noticed she held a small boy by hand – a small, dark haired boy, who looked to be about six, and looked utterly bored.

The woman – _Ginny,_ Draco reminded himself, still a little dazed – walked into his house, looking around interestedly. The boy tugged on her hand. "Mum?" he said clearly, "I'm hungry."

"Hush," she told her son. Then, in the middle of Draco's living room, she turned to grin at him. "Nice place you've got here, Malfoy."

"Draco," he corrected automatically, "and thank you very much." By now, he'd regained himself, and his eyes narrowed as he surveyed her. "But please explain to me what you're doing around here, Weasley. You can't just barge in like this." He pushed his hands into his pockets, and said disparagingly, "I can't pretend it's a wonderful surprise."

"I'm moving into the house next door – _The Evergreens,_" she told him happily. "So we're next-door neighbors!"

"I know for a fact," he said coldly, "that Brenda Wickman lives in _The Evergreens_."

"Brenda's a friend of mine, silly," Ginny laughed lightly, "and she's off on her honeymoon now, isn't she? I wanted to explore the city, you know, as I've never been here before, and she told me to stay at her house."

Draco blinked. "All right then." He strolled over to her, his thoughts putting a smirk on his face. "So, Weasley...How's the Boy Who Can't Pop Off?"

Ginny seemed to grind her teeth together for a moment, before she smiled pleasantly. "If you must know, Malfoy," she said politely, "Harry and I are divorced."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "I see. But still," he pressed, seating himself at his couch and crossing his legs, "that doesn't explain what you're doing at my house."

"Malfoy." Ginny put her hands on her hips, while her boy wandered away, fingering a vase on a shelf curiously. "I'm in town, and I don't know anyone here, and I wanted a good companion, so I thought I'd just pop in to the neighbors' and make friends!"

Draco did an involuntary double-take. This woman was astonishing. "Weasley," he said in an incredulous voice, leaning forward, "Are you mentally well? _I _happen to be Draco Malfoy, and you come _here_ in search of a companion?"

Ginny sat down daintily on his sofa, and patted the seat next to her. The boy pulled a sulky face and sat next to her, swinging his legs idly. "There's no need to be so anti-social," she sniffed. "Well, anyway. Jonathan –" she smiled at her son – "this is Mum's old schoolmate, Draco Malfoy. Malfoy, my son Jonathan."

The boy grinned. Draco noticed that even though he seemed to have inherited his father's untamable black hair that resembled some kind of upside down, soot-blackened mop, he had his mother's brown eyes. "Hi," Jonathan said smartly. "'Spect my Mum was a friend of yours?"

"No," Draco answered politely, "she wasn't. I hardly knew her name, in fact, and even if I did know her name, I wouldn't have cared to remember it all these years – which is why I am so baffled at why she's landed herself on my doorstep with you today."

Then Draco wondered it that had been a little too rude. The kid was his daughter's age, after all.

The boy looked up at Ginny. "Wow, Mum. He's not very nice, is he?"

Ginny stood up, pulling Jonathan by the hand. "No," she snapped, glowering at Draco, "he's not. I see I'll have to find company somewhere else, seeing as how the man that lives next to me is an asshole. Come now, Johnny." She walked gracefully to the door. "Let's get out of here."

Draco followed her to the door, and opened it for her, standing aside courteously. "Best decision you ever made, Weasley."

"Ta-ta," he smirked as she stormed out of his house, pausing to kick aside a pebble as she slammed his gate shut and glaring daggers at the obviously besotted watchman.

But as he watched her beautifully shaped backside leave his home in a fury, Draco had to admit – she wasn't _boring._

Well, anyway, good riddance to bad rubbish.

* * *

Draco was asleep, twitching repeatedly at the sound of a clear, sweet female voice calling out his name from what seemed like his front door. Of course, Draco just assumed he was dreaming, and rolled over.

"_Draco!_ I _know_ you're there!" A pause. "All right. Will you _please_ open the door?"

Draco's eyes snapped open, thinking that awaking would probably be the only way to make the voice shut up. But:

"DRACO MALFOY!"

Draco grumbled under his breath, cursing whoever it was that was outside his door at seven in the goddamn morning, and pulled on his dressing gown, rumpling his hair with one hand as he padded over to his door.

"Who the _heck_ is it?" he hissed through the door.

"_Malfoy!_ Finally!" the voice said, and Draco froze, recognizing the voice. He had a sudden urge to open the door and shake that Weasley till her teeth rattled.

"It's me, Ginny Weasley," she said through the door, "and will you _kindly _let me in? I've been yelling at your door for the past ten minutes, the neighbors will start to worry."

Draco swore, and pulled open the door, facing her with a defiant hand on his hip. For the first time, he didn't actually care what he looked like.

She stood there, dressed primly in a brown blouse over khaki pants, her red hair tied back into a long ponytail. She smiled, a little sheepishly, at him, her brown eyes shining.

"What the heck is Benny doing?" Draco grumbled to himself. "I'll sack that man, I will."

"If you're taking about that moronic watchman," Ginny said matter-of-factly, "I hexed him when he didn't let me in."

Draco glared at her, aghast. "Well," he muttered, "that explains it. And what gave you the right to hex my staff, Weasley?"

"The right?" Ginny smirked. "My conscience."

Draco muttered angrily under his breath. "Oh, all right," he said grudgingly, standing aside to let her in. "If that's the only way to get you off my case..."

"Thank you." She walked in, and made her way to the living room, then turning around to simply look at him, arms crossed across her chest. The smile faded from her mouth, and her eyes seemed unfathomable to him suddenly.

"Where's your son?" he asked suddenly.

"At home," she answered demurely, "I mean, Malfoy, you didn't exactly dote on him yesterday, did you?"

"I don't expect I did," Draco agreed dryly. "Well, sit down, then. And whatever it is, make it fast. I don't have all day."

Ginny frowned, and pushed back a stray strand of red hair from her eyes. "Why don't you sit down, too, Malfoy?"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Weasley?"

She blushed. "It makes me uncomfortable." She gestured at his standing form. "Me sitting, and you standing in your own house, interrogating me."

"_Interrogating_ you?" Draco repeated scornfully. "What did you expect, Weasley? That I'd unfurl a red carpet when you turn up at dawn on my doorstep after stomping out the same doorstep the day before after being insulted by me? And, not to mention, hex my watchman?"

But then, in spite of himself, he sat down at his couch, and leant forward, elbows on his knees, and surveyed her, fingertips together. Ginny resisted the urge to blush at her not-so-innocent thoughts – honestly, the man looked so different. The piercing grey eyes, pale, sharp face, and white blond hair were the same...but there was a subtle hardening, a sort of maturing, of the features that made him look more..._manly._

And Merlin, that dressing gown. Was that a six pack under there?

"Listen, Malfoy," she began, "I'm sorry. I know it was a surprise, me turning up like that at your house after we haven't seen each other in almost ten years. And anyway," she continued, "it wasn't like we were best buddies at school –" Draco snorted loudly – "so I should've known I wouldn't exactly be welcome here. I apologize."

Draco stared at her, and she looked up at him, her chocolate brown eyes sincere. He got a sudden urge to make her a cup of coffee. _Cut it out, Draco,_ he told himself firmly, and smirked at her. "You're forgiven," he said. "And I suppose I could tolerate having you as a neighbor – as long as you don't get in my way."

She grimaced, and then grinned, her eyes shining in that melting chocolate way again, Draco frowned to himself, and stood up. "So now you can leave my house happy, on a nice, guiltless conscience."

Her smile faded, and she glowered. "Wow, Malfoy, you still really haven't changed, have you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Still the same arrogant prat you were before," she stated, standing up. "Well, I might as well leave, then."

Draco's eyes followed her as she walked to his door, and just as she disappeared behind it, he called out, "And stay out, Weasley!"

She shot him a smirk. "Gladly."

Draco leant back on his pillows, gazing up at his ceiling, and smirked, thinking of waking up his daughter Cecilia, and trying that new cereal – that Funky Fruity one – with her.

And that Brenda Wickman had been a real hellcat, anyway.

* * *

**A/N: **Please, please, please review, and tell me what you think!


End file.
